ex delicium delirium
by PureWaterLily
Summary: The Eternal Mangekyou does irreversible damage to the brain. When Sasuke's sanity and control starts slipping, all Itachi can do is hold his brother together the best he can. SasuIta. Dark.
1. ûnum

ex delicium delirium

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><p><strong>Warning<strong>: This collection is PG and feasibly canonic... until it's not. Then it gets dark. And darker. And a little sexy. Before it jumps into the abyss and becomes high octane nightmare fuel.

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><p>:: :: ::<p>

After losing everything, you get it all back again.

There is the Konoha sky, the warmth from the sun, the shade of the trees. Somehow through the multiple attacks on the village, the giant oak in the middle of the market central survives, as the mail service, bookstores, and bakeries peak from it once more in a conglomeration of tree houses. The cobblestone roads are repaved, the telephone wires and pipes reinstalled. Fresh paint is rolled everywhere, across the walls, along the banisters, on a billboard advertising for Mighty-Youth Sparkle Toothpaste.

The people have come back. Civilians walk through the streets, children's laughter fills the school, playgrounds, and parks, and dogs once more are in their chase of the dominating cat population.

And you are there to see it all. _See _every detail of the recovering village: swallows spiraling in the air, the missing teeth of a child's grin, the falling petals of peach blossoms. _Feel _the breeze against your back, sunlight on your skin. Your muscles do not ache, lungs do not strain, ribs do not crack, eyes do not burn, your body completely rewritten.

Most of all, your little brother is here, a noble shinobi who descends onto the roof beside you as gracefully as a hawk. He places a hand on your shoulder, a polite request for you to follow him to his apartment. The Uchiha complex has been buried under rubble since the Akatsuki's invasion, and there remains but a garden and memorial tombstone left. Your future lies in a flat elsewhere, in the new residential areas only a block from the hubbub of the downtown market.

You crack open the windows, sweep away dust, and smile as you straighten your brother's photos with his teammates. Very soon, the home shows signs of life, with shirts tossed on the floor after sparring, bowls on the rack to dry, and heavy traffic of your brother and his friends, because even after they take off their shoes, they still leave behind dirt, twigs, or puddles that make the spies cry and trackers grin. Every morning and night, there is also noise, the type most call unpleasant, like bickers and banters and rants and the accidental smash of ceramic, but to you, it is music.

As you set the groceries on the table, you make an effort to look at the shattered tea cup you just bought, or otherwise they will assume it went unnoticed and flee.

Both your brother and his friend point a finger at the other, "He did it!" and you hold back a chuckle.

At dinner, Naruto relays every detail of their mission not unlike an Academy child caught up in his day's worth of accomplishments, Sakura buries her face at the embarrassment of their fiascoes, and your brother gives his rare inputs of corrections and noncommittal grunts. And you eat, and listen, and find yourself overcome with both joy and grief because you haven't eaten in a home, at a table, with home cooked food and company for over a decade, not since you torn apart your family into paper pieces.

But now, it seems this too has returned, the important pieces carefully taped and mailed back to you. You have a home, and you have a family, and these are the precious things you thought you would never have again. But you have them, and you are glad your back faces everyone while you wash the dishes, because your hands are uncharacteristically unsteady and there is water in your eyes.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you are anticipating a cost, because there can be no gains without losses, a sacrifice at the root of every tree. But this time, it appears the world has given you everything, and asked for nothing in return.

:: :: ::


	2. duo

:: :: ::

The harbinger of misfortunes begins with an act of good will.

"Everyone's having barbeque at Yakiniku Q tonight to celebrate its reopening! You should join us, Itachi!"

Your hand stops, and you look up from the laundry to see Naruto's face pressed close, a beaming smile stretched as wide as a fox's. But despite his mischievous appearance, his intentions are pure, and he has no motive beyond the surface.

However, overhearing, your brother becomes wary. His fingers make contact with your shoulder, as he says, "My brother doesn't know everyone there."

Sakura bites back a giggle. "Worried your brother is shy, Sasuke-kun? Sai didn't know anyone when he first went with us, but he assimilated just..." She looks at her aforementioned companion with his plastered smile and mechanical wave, and lowers an eyebrow. "...fine... ish."

"The place is very popular. It's Gyu-Kaku-style, and their negi tanshio is the most delicious," Sai reads straight off Konoha's tourist brochure. "88% of the people would recommend going."

Before you can respond, your brother has already interjected, "My brother doesn't like meat," his hand holding you tighter. You observe his unease, and keep your silence.

Naruto, on the other hand, speaks without thought for tact nor persuasion. "Oi, Sasuke, you've been keeping Itachi indoors like a broken housewife! He must be bored out of his mind. And even if he doesn't like us kids, he can talk about youth or porn or whatever with the adults. Also, if he _loves _vegetables, he can have _all of mine, PLEASE_. Except spare me a few grilled peppers... those aren't too bad..." With that, Naruto strokes his chin in contemplation, oblivious to your brother's uncertain glance in your direction.

You merely touch his hand and give him a reassuring smile.

"Thank you for inviting me, Naruto-kun," you say, putting aside the laundry. "I would love to go."

You sense an objection.

"And in the unlikely scenario I become bored of youth or porn or whatever, as Naruto eloquently put, I can always have another glaring contest with my little brother."

Sasuke is sometimes too easy to bait, because as soon as these words escape your lips, he has already unintentionally accepted your challenge with a glare.

"Ooh, ooh, five ryou on Itachi!"

And so, everybody exits into streets in chatter. Your brother is the only person who does not speak, subconsciously fallen two steps behind and to your right, the position of a bodyguard shinobi with a client. You sense how his fears are realized when the crowd cuts and diverges around you like the flow of a stream against a rock. There are unwanted eyes in your direction.

The sun sets fast, and the shadows run to provide you shelter. But shadows cannot do everything, and Sakura becomes the second person be perceptive of the situation. While Naruto waves to his friends at a faraway table, her ears pick up the subtle hush in volume, her eyes pick up the trickles of customers filing out in larger numbers.

You soothe her discomfort by asking, "May I sit by a lady today?" and she responds with delight.

"Of course!"

The third member aware is Sai. In your company are Yuuhi, Hatake, and Maito, and while they are courteous, none of you have forgotten the confrontation by the bridge five years ago. Eye contact is rare, words unnaturally polite as they pass you the rolls basket.

But when Sai notes their unspoken tension, they instantly stiffen. In your presence, their pride as mentors have faltered, and they push to reconcile.

Finally, the last to notice, but notice the sharpest is Naruto, after the waiter has written everyone's orders for drinks. The waiter is about to leave when Naruto blurts, "Oi! You forgot Itachi!"

Your name is a shock-wave that ripples through the restaurant, halting still every conversation and chopstick. Forcing a smile, the waiter bows. "Of course, of course, I will add another drink."

Naruto, his mirth gone, demands, "How will you know what to get him when you haven't even _asked_ him what he wants! Oi!"

But the waiter has already fled. Naruto is ready to get up, when you say, "Actually, I did not want anything, Naruto-kun. I am satisfied with the tea."

However, while Sakura is uncomfortable, Sai is confused, Naruto is angry, the one to snap is your poised little brother. While you attempt to appease the other three, you have become careless. A waitress pushes your hand into the brazier with a stone pot. You retract instinctively, but your fingers suffer a mild burn.

"Aren't you going to apologize." Sasuke locks the waitress's wrist in a vise grip before she could leave.

"What- I didn't do any-"

"Don't pretend."

Much to her horror, his eyes are red. "You saw. Do you lack that much common courtesy to apologize? And isn't it protocol that you retrieve a first aid? You would do so if it were with any other guest. So why, with my brother, you ignore and walk away."

"I- I- "

He grips tighter, ready to snap bone. "You don't deserve to serve others. How is such scum not-"

"Sasuke, shouldn't we serve the rice before it gets cold?" You uncap the pot. "You are keeping the entire table waiting."

Your brother returns, and he lets her go.

"Burns happen all the time," the girl across the table, Tenten, dares to break the ice. "How bad is it, Itachi-san? I have bandages if you need them."

"I h-have some ointment..." the Hyuuga heiress offers.

You decline, and as you serve everyone rice, conversations slowly resume. With every bowl, you do not acknowledge the rage simmering within your brother. Equally, you pretend to be oblivious to the wince of betrayal just a layer deeper.

You offer him the second to last bowl and smile. "It smells delicious, Sasuke. Why don't you have some?"

You can tell he will be bitter on the walk home, but he will let it go. He'll forgive you faster on a full stomach.

:: :: ::


	3. tria

:: :: ::

After the barbeque, your brother insists on keeping you indoors.

"Nii-san, I passed by the market on my way back... I thought I'd buy the groceries for you..."

He looks for excuses, takes away your reasons to leave the apartment, gives you menial tasks so you will stay.

Although he allows you space, the little actions betray him. How he locks the door before leaving. How he becomes strategic with where he tosses his weapons. How he has delegated himself with specific chores around the house, like wash the peaches, read and sort through the letters before you can, answer every ring of the door.

Every night, he lays his futon centimeters closer to yours, shuts the windows even when the temperatures are not agreeable, and keeps a kunai in his pillow.

While his concerns are not completely unjustified, you watch it develop into a paranoia. Your brother is strung on wire, and you feel the his stress from every calm syllable he gives.

He loosens at times, in the company of his friends, when you are in his presence, after a refreshing spar. But it feels every time he returns home, he is rewound tighter.

You tuck the bottle of baking powder behind a bag of flour. "I do not see it, Sasuke."

"What- I'm sure I bought-"

You close the pantry. "You're going to be late," you say, handing him his scroll and a bento box. "I'll buy it. I have nothing better today anyway."

Your brother has more excuses prepared. But he fears tipping you off, so he swallows them down.

"Whatever," he mumbles. "Have fun with your stupid baking."

"I'll be quick," you reassure, and he calms, but not by much.

When you step outside, you prepare to observe the source of your brother's troubles. You travel your usual way on the roofs and in the shades, straying far away from the streets. Your ears are keen.

"... you are exaggerating, dear. All around this village are shinobi-"

"Have you heard the neighbors! They say ten years ago, he massacred his entire clan, every woman and child! We are living next to a psychopath murder-"

"He's been reformed. Keeping him on a tight leash is the best companion of Uzumaki Naruto. If there is any name I trust, it's that one."

"Uzumaki Naruto is one thing, his friend another... I've seen his eyes, dear. I worry it's not he who controls his brother, but the other way around! What if the psychopath strikes again, what if he's manipulating his brother with that eye? Dear, forget this. I had hopes the Hokage would listen to us, but now that she refused our petition, we should be like the Tanakas and get out-"

"Hush! Enough out of you!" the store owner scowls, shooing his wife away with his fan. "As long as there is the shinobi and the Hokage and Uzumaki Naruto, psychopath here or not, I am not scared, and we are not moving!"

You close your eyes and ready to retreat, when there is the drop of a bottle cap. It rolls into the alleyway, and you kneel down, stop it with a brush of your finger. A pitter-patter of footsteps follow, as does a young child of four or five. His mother steps behind him, belly round and fertile, groceries balanced on her arms.

"What do you say?" she questions him, after you hand back the cap.

The child hugs the cap and gives you a beaming smile, toothy and bright. "Thank you, onii-chan!"

You do not know what ultimately drives you to act, the child or the struggling mother, but you end up relieving her bags. "Let me help you."

The walk comes with a risk, but the reward is generous, as the child tugs the hem of your shirt and shows you his bottle cap with a grin. "There's nine of them! If I get them all, they'll give me a sticker!"

By the time you reach their apartment, the mother expresses her gratitude and invites you inside for a cup of tea, of which you must decline. You know the second you step out of sight, her neighbors will approach. She will give a cry, drop the bag she holds, and the eggs will break. The child will ask what is wrong, only to be shooed indoors as quickly as possible.

But perhaps what you haven't expected is the basket of cookies and an envelope outside your door the next day. Your brother finds them first, horrified.

"You said you were just going to buy baking powder!" he demands. "What have you-"

You rip open the envelope, because the smells of baking powder and explosion powder are very different. "It's harmless, Sasuke," you say, showing him the innocuous _thank you_ card.

He doesn't know what to say, so he shoves you out of the way and sulks in the bedroom. When you are positive he will not come out for some time, you dispose of the cookies. Cookies require eggs, and animals have good reason to have not touched them.

In the following days, you deactivate eight explosions tags, throw away four poisoned pears, fix the broken window, and wipe the debris from the floors. Your brother will worry, be eager to return to you after every mission, but he will not find a single thing in the apartment out of place, not a scrap of evidence in the sink or trash.

The only time he will need to be on his guard is a humid day in August, when he steps inside and has a mountain of confetti slammed into his face.

"Happy Birthday, Sasuke," you chuckle, presenting the cake while Sakura volleys him a balloon, and Naruto blows a whistle into his deafening ear.

:: :: ::


	4. quattuor

:: :: ::

Although you have tried to hide your summoning, as long as your brother knows what he is looking for, he will find it. You couldn't keep Sasuke away, and the ANBU cannot restrain him, nor the Hokage, nor his best friend.

His body is shaking, the murderous intent from his chakra dark as the day he used the Mangekyou.

"If that thing touches my brother," he says, "then I can reassure you they will understand the true meaning of fear!"

"What would you have me do, Sasuke!" the Hokage yells in equal helplessness. "The villagers are scared. Thousands have stormed my office shouting at me to kill him, and many more threaten to leave. We've already lost countless specialists and technicians!"

"Those capitalist pigs? Good riddance."

"Those _capitalists pigs _are keeping money in circulation, our economy stable, providing our troops food, clothing, equipment, and shelter! Without them, we have no village!"

"Without my brother, you would've lost your village a long ago!" Sasuke spits. "Would you prefer that? Because I can make that happen!"

"Sasuke!" Naruto cries, as he locks Sasuke's arm and forces his katana down in its sheath. "No, obaa-chan, he don't mean it!"

"The way your mouth is running, treason is a step away," the Hokage says with a shaken breath.

"Tsunade-_hime_, in case this has escaped your notice, I have already committed treason, and I will certainly do it again the way your government is running. Because what kind of corrupted, messed up FUCK of a system is it that I can walk as some hero, while my brother continues to be punished for doing EXACTLY WHAT YOU PEOPLE ORDERED HIM TO."

The nostrils of the Hokage flare, and her chakra spikes in reaction to his Sharingan. "That's it! Uchiha Sasuke, you-"

You flicker in front of your brother, an arm extended to keep him back in place, protected. You keep your eyes downcast. "Hokage-sama, he speaks from emotion. Please pardon his impudence."

"Obaa-chan, he don't mean it! You bastard, tell obaa-chan you don't mean it. Please... you don't mean it." Naruto's voice is breaking, coarse and tear-soaked, as he holds onto Sasuke's arm like a lifeline. Sasuke is turning his back to the village again. After all those years, it is as if Naruto has made no progress at all.

It reminds you how, despite everything, with the body of a warrior, insight of a sage, glory of a leader, Naruto is still a child inside.

"Hokage-sama, if I surrender my eyes, is it possible... is it possible I burden you no longer and leave the village."

You expect objections from all three sides, so you add, "The village may send my brother as my guard. For my protection, and for the protection of others from me. We promise to do no harm, give no trouble, or else you may arrest us."

"What! No!" Naruto falls into dismay, which only intensifies into horror when the Hokage catches the plea in your eyes and bites down her dissent.

Meanwhile, your brother falls quiet, the venom in his chakra dispersed like air. He is in shock, because you have said what he has wanted this entire time: leave the village.

No more politics, betrayal, and war. No more Konoha. His home is with his clan, his family, _you_, and he only came back because you came back. But now, without the village, he doesn't need to hear of plots to ruin you, worry of abuses thrown your way, fear that they will take you away from him ever again.

So when the Hokage demands the guards to see them out, Naruto struggles, but your brother gives little resistance. He sends you a look of hope, lets you continue negotiating more agreeable terms.

You do not make eye contact with him, only wait until the door slams close and they are gone.

"You know your request is impossible. What do you really want."

Despite yourself, your voice has gone bare and skeletal. "I want to be branded with the juinjutsu before my brother can interrupt again."

The Hokage is surprised. "You will agree to our conditions."

"If that is what it takes to remain in Konoha."

If that is what it takes for Sasuke to remain in Konoha. Sasuke must stay. No matter how tall, a tree without roots will fall, and it is best to plant him where he has his strongest bonds. No one can go against the world for long.

"And what will I do when your brother sees the curse mark on your face and starts gutting the population with the chidori."

"Sedate him, if you must. But Sasuke speaks out of desperation, and his threat is to hold you in place. Threats become meaningless if the damage is already done, Hokage-sama. He will be angry, but he knows better than anyone that revenge does not amend things."

"And if you're wrong?"

You suppress the tension in your chest. "Then use me to stop him."

When Sasuke returns, the Hokage's silence and your smile makes him eager to jump to conclusions, and anxiously question what he hasn't dared to. Your response is a beckoning of your hand, and when he approaches you, you stop him with a tap on his forehead.

Your chakra has an instant effect, and he collapses to the ground, unconscious.

"Forgive me," you whisper, as you bundle him up in your arms and deliver him to the ANBU. You make a plea with the Hokage to look after him, to check his health, because you suspect the stress has taken a toll on his body and mind. She agrees, and that is enough to satisfy you, as you are escorted away.

The trial is public. Your brother is away in the hospital, and the Hokage is clever to send Naruto there to keep watch. Only their third teammate bears witness, as her eyes widen at the sight of a glowing branding iron. She pushes through not too politely, demanding them stop this, reciting the village's codes that she has memorized by heart, only to be silence by an apathetic line.

And you are forced to keep your gaze up front when she calls your name through the volume of the crowd, telling you to get down, crying that she will speak sense into her mentor.

You close your eyes and kneel down, allow them to tuck back your hair and press the iron to your cheek. There is pain, but it is little compared to when the shinobi demonstrates a sequence of hand signs before the audience. At the last sign, your chakra flow is stunted, then extracted by the pull of an invisible syringe.

The process is more excruciating than you could have prepared for, because you have gone so long without pain, it now hits you with a force that pushes you to the ground, leaves you gasping for breath. The pain brings forth memories from ANBU, from Akatsuki, and while recalling those days makes your stomach twist, it also reminds you that you and your brother have been through much worse.

"He is fully incapacitated," the citizens are informed. "He will no longer be able to draw or use chakra. If he becomes a concern, the seal will activate and render him paralyzed."

You are declared of no threat. The majority of the people is satisfied and disperses. Sakura jumps on the stage and helps you to your knees, but you seize her hand until the last of the crowd is gone, and there are no more skeptical eyes.

Then you let her do as she pleases. Only it is futile, as she presses her palm against your face, and the mark does not fade.

Her voice is as shaken as her hand. "W-why."

You are cautious when you stroke her cheek, and wipe away a tear with your thumb. "I never wished to be a shinobi. And now, I am not. There is nothing sad about this."

When you smile, she lunges forward and pulls you into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

:: :: ::


	5. quînque

:: :: ::

The Hokage has done as you asked. You are relieved to learn your brother is fine, except perhaps under too much pressure. You pull him into your arms, and plea with her to lighten his missions, allow him more breaks for recovery, and eight hours of sleep a day. Stress is what destroyed your body, and you will do anything to prevent the same from happening to Sasuke.

After a passing glance at your face, she complies once more. The Hokage is in your debt.

Sasuke wakes up in the bedroom. You have brought him a tray with water and food, but they are knocked aside and spilled onto the futon and tatami.

He seizes hold of your face. Tears swell in his eyes.

"No... no..."

As you have predicted, sorrow overtakes rage. Your brother doesn't realize how vulnerable he looks, as he traces the burn mark down your cheek.

"Tell me I'm in a genjutsu," he chokes, then a little more forcibly, "TELL ME, NII-SAN!"

You take hold of his hand before it can strike you, give it a squeeze, and tell him it is fine.

Your chakra system is crippled, but he needs to understand it serves you no use to begin with. Now that you have him, a village to protect you, you have no more use for jutsu. Let this be another thing buried in the past.

He trembles, in misery and rage, but you hold him close, and speak in whispers. You know your words are causing him hurt again, a stab of betrayal, because while he acts in your interest, you continue to side with them. He has poured all his heart and soul into you, and yet, you continue to think of them. Your threat is subtle, but there, as you lift his chin up and smile.

"A home means more to me than all the jutsu in the world, Sasuke," you murmur, and he crumbles, because you have taken away his retribution, and he is too young to understand what it means to swallow injustice.

"No..." he chokes. "Don't do this, nii-san... don't do this to me again..."

At the last word, something within you cracks, but you keep your silence as he buries himself in your chest.

Both of you have fallen into an embrace. As you let his head rest by your heart, he turns despondent and limp. Slowly, his anger suffocates, he comes to painful acceptance.

In a bittersweet sadness, you realize how mature, aged, and weary your little brother has become. You also realize how you cannot protect him any more.

After a day of isolation, he returns at night, and finds you setting up only one futon.

"Yours is still being dried," you tell him, brushing the folds from the sheets. "You've had a tiring day. Please take mine." You gather the extra comforter and are about to leave, when he grabs your arm.

"Where will you sleep," he questions softly, his eyes fixed on the seal mark. Time and distance has not erased it away, and never will. There is no genjutsu to be broken, no nightmare to be awaken from.

You tilt your head in a manner in which your hair can hide the mark, as you say, "The couch is fine."

It appears he has nothing more to add, but his grip on you remain.

"No, don't do that," he says.

The death of his spirit has you sighing in obedience.

That night, you and your brother are at a level of intimacy that has been lost since early childhood. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest, his breath against your neck, his body pressed against yours. Even in his sleep, he wears a frown and his burdens. But unlike in his youth, much of his features has now been dulled by callousness.

Also, unlike in his youth, when he curled up against you, far away from the thunder and battering of the rain outside, he now always sleeps on the side of the window. Because of it, you see how the moon illuminates the edges of his skin, the solitary strands of his hair, crowning him a halo.

Even through his trials and hardships, your brother has still managed to grow up extraordinarily handsome. It causes your heart to ache and be thankful you can be graced with such beauty, as you kiss his forehead and murmur good night.

:: :: ::


	6. sex

:: :: ::

Even without chakra, you are capable of leaping to remarkable heights, balance on the smallest beams, land on the tallest trees without fear of accident. You need only compensate the support of chakra with stamina and extra caution.

However, you choose to abandon the other ways of the shinobi as well. Instead, you become too daring, and decide to test the boundary of your new limits – in the light.

For the first time in your life, you step out of the shadows. You become less transparent with every step, on a familiar road that you have always seen, but never taken. This road is for civilians, and have been sacrilegious for you to have stepped here. Even the few roads you have walked on in your youth have been shinobi routes, from the Academy or training fields, never the shopping districts, springs, or parks.

The attention and murmurs are negligible, the curse seal a blessing, because it is by wearing a sigma of shame that you can realize this dream.

"Onii-chan, what happened to your face?"

The boy has dashed up to your bench, several other children following suit.

"Who is he," questions one, shyly hiding behind.

"This is onii-chan! He stopped my bottle cap from running away!" After patting his clothes and rummaging through his pockets, he withdraws three bottle caps and shows them to you with bursting pride. "Haha says only six more!"

You examine each of the caps, a colorful button, and begin to understand where they come from. From your grocery bag, you withdraw a bottle of milk, plain though you understand they come in many flavors. With a twist, the cap comes off with a _pop_ that alerts every ear. The children watch in awe, fixated on the cap.

The boy looks at you for confirmation that he can keep it. When you nod, he gushes with excitement. "One, two... five more!"

All the children suddenly have their eyes on you, hopeful. Before you know it, you are at the grocer's, surrounded by a flock of children. Somehow, the bottle cap is trend more popular than you anticipated, as more children are attracted forward. You inwardly chuckle when you think how Sasuke would react if he learned this is how you spent his savings.

In the corner, the grocer is cautious, and keeps his gaze level on the register when you hand him the money. He gives you little trouble, though your change comes several ryou short at times, on top of the taxes presumably tailored for former criminals. Perhaps it's only fair.

"Look okaa-chan, otou-chan, look what onii-chan got m-"

By instinct, your hand catches an incensed father's fist.

"Get the _hell _away from our children," a father hisses, more men joining him, while the mothers hurriedly take their sons and daughters away.

You easily backstep to prevent the worst of their blows, make sure nothing they do leaves bruises anywhere visible, lest you wish to fall under your brother's suspicions again.

But you do not do more than that. You do not completely evade, block, nor leave, because you are curious as to when they will stop of their own volition. For most, it is soon, when your shoulder hits the shelves and you fall down, causing the soy sauce jars to rattle and packets of salt, dried spices, and teas to slip down.

Only one of them wishes to continue, as he kicks again and again, until you hear a rib or two cracking, and there is a metallic taste in your mouth.

"Get. Off. Our. Streets. You. Filth!"

"That's enough." The reason is either fear of attention or retribution, but most likely both. "You'll be charged for assault. The Hokage said-"

"I don't care what the Hokage said! It's obvious to everyone that he's not reformed and he's not repentant. Any shinobi with even the faintest sense of honor left would have long chosen seppuku, but he exploits our Hokage's mercy and crawls back when all his criminal buddies have hit the bucket. He's but a murderer, a disgrace, a coward, and an _eyesore to this village_!"

He spits in your face, and you keep your gaze downcast, head hung low.

It takes the others to force him away. "If you really want to atone for your sins, then do the world a favor and end your miserable existence! No one wants you here!"

After they leave, the store falls into silence. You take a moment to wipe your face, then pick up the fallen packets. You are placing them back where they belong, when you find a particular package of dried leaves amongst them.

The grocer still does not look at you.

"How was your mission, Sasuke?" you question, as the apartment door opens.

"It was fine, we had a-" Your brother stops in his tracks. "What's that smell."

"I fancied myself to a new type of tea today," you say, washing the produce. "Does the smell bother you?"

"No..." He approaches you cautiously. "What _tea _is this?"

You nod towards the counter, and he snatches up the packet of dried buchu leaves. He takes a sniff and finds you are not lying. But the tea is not something he recalls purchasing. He is tense again, even though his friends have managed to pull him out of depression the past weeks.

"You went outside," he says, his unease poorly hidden. "I thought I said I'll accompany you this weekend if you need to buy anything."

You turn off the faucet.

"My apologies, Sasuke. I guess I became impatient," you tell him, as you subtly roll down your sleeves and conceal the smell of buchu on your skin. "I'm still not accustomed to being sedentary-"

He grabs your hand before you could touch the handle of a knife, his eyes fearful, as if you are about to withdraw a tantō blade.

"Sasuke?"

"Nii-san... what happened today?"

He is too perceptive.

You merely raise an eyebrow, but at his persistence, answer, "Well, as you said, I went outside, met some nice children and their parents, bought groceries, came home, brewed tea, folded the laundry, and tidied the apartment. Ah, and I received a message from Sakura-san. She wants to know of your plans for the upcoming matsuri. Does that answer your question, Sasuke? Or would you like the details, like how many jars of milk I purchased, how I sort pillowcases, how many times I discovered Uzumaki's undergarments in your laundry pile..."

Your tone is light, your smile genuine, and his previous anxiety has all been reduced to a stammering, "What- No! I gave him permission to use the shower once- I knew nothing about this, I swear- gah, that idiot left his-... Just burn my clothes, nii-san."

You try to suppress your laughter, minding not how it hurts your ribs, because your little brother is here, by your side, without that heart-wrenching hatred in his eyes.

Sasuke is all that matters in the end.

:: :: ::


	7. septem

:: :: ::

The door slides open. "Are you ready, nii-san?"

"Almost." You tie the koshi-himo of your yukata. His footsteps approach you from behind, before he kneels down and takes the obi from your lap. You let him wrap it around you, securing the obi in a soft knot.

You notice how he is not in this usual rush, taking his time to make sure the obi is neither too loose nor tight, the knot hanging symmetrically. After he is done, he lingers, so you take a moment to fix his collar, granting him the time to understand what he wants to say.

"Nii-san... promise you'll stay by me tonight."

You find it ironic how he now worries you will wander from him like a lost child. You chuckle, a palm to his face, and tell him you will.

On the street, his friends wait, as does a young woman in a yukata with blossoms. Above her eyes are brushes of shadow, a dab of gloss on her lips, a bracelet around her wrist.

Your brother has his gaze momentarily lost on her. Only until you drape the haori over his shoulders and gently nudge him does he move.

But he doesn't notice how he walks closer to Sakura than usual. He doesn't notice how he suddenly likes looking at her, and for a few extra seconds. He is ignorant to the details she has fretted over.

And you must smile.

The festivities are lively, and cheerful, as everyone samples the mochi specialty, and test their hands at ring looping, yoyo, balloon darts, and kingyo-sukui, the last of which has Naruto steaming as he slams more ryou on the counter, because this is the first game he cannot win with ease.

"This is more difficult than I thought," Sakura mutters, staring at her own broken poi, and your brother frowns at his. He tries again, but doesn't have any luck.

After the number of broken poi has piled up to a mountain, your brother is preventing his friend from testing his Rasengan on the fish, and Sakura has dropped her charm. "Okay, I fucking swear I did this before when I was younger."

"These are not goldfish," you finally reveal to her. "They are swordtails."

"What-"

But you press a finger against your lips, as you take her poi and dip it into the water. Her eyes widen when you lift it to the surface.

"How did you...-"

You sink the poi back down and let the fish swim free, then beckon for her hand. You demonstrate. She stares in amazement at the fish in her poi, and after you retreat, catches the next on her own. It attracts the attention of her teammates.

"Oh no, it's tree walking all over again!" Naruto groans.

"Actually, all you have to do is-" But her teammates have stopped listening, lost in a childish competition for superiority.

They do both manage a fish in the end. When the vendor hands your brother his, he glances at you, a furtive kind with a sense of hesitation that you recognize. You wait, wondering if he will act.

Before he could, there is a bellow from up the road, "Come on, Sasuke! Get your ass moving!" and your brother instantly looks away. However, he has not lost his hesitation, so you relieve him of his mental battles.

"I can carry that for you if you'd like."

In less than a second, the bag is shoved into your arms, his gaze focused on the road. "Keep it. I can get anything."

So he hasn't ceased to be endearing, only became more difficult.

"Anything, you say," you tease. "How about..." Your gaze lands on a crowded table in the distance, and a nostalgia sets in. "Those."

Behind the table, on display, is a statue of the goddess Benten, her eight arms each hanging a precious silver craft.

"Eh, you wish play karuta, Sasuke-kun?"

Your brother pushes past, heads directly for the card table. His teammates exchange a glance, then join him.

"We play with a hundred," the dealer says. "Shinobi techniques prohibited."

"I'm game! Hit me, ojii-chan!" Naruto grins, rolling up his sleeve.

Soon, they become so lost in the game, one round after the next, that when you bring your brother a treat to eat, he brushes you aside and lunges for a card.

"Number 24 again!" exclaims the judge, and the masses cheer and groan.

Sakura holds onto Sasuke's arm. "Fifteen more, Sasuke-kun!" she exclaims, and he smirks, eyes keen.

You decide to let them be, retreating as another spectator in the crowd.

That is when you sense a disturbance in the normal flow of people, and trouble comes. First is two men who come to watch the game, flanking your sides. Slowly, others trickle in, in pairs or threes, unnaturally quiet and feigning interest.

You pretend to not notice, how they move closer to you, as if to get a better view of the game. You pretend to not hear of hands reaching into bags, or daggers sliding down their sleeves. You are aware, but you say nothing, and they do nothing.

Your brother slams on the last card on the table, the entire table explodes in raucousness. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner! 24!"

"Hah, who's the boss?" Naruto grins, crossing his arms.

"Naruto!" Sakura slaps his head. "You did nothing!"

"Oi, you forget who got that what-a-what?"

"_Once_!"

And they bicker and laugh, and slap ryou on the table, as they unanimously prepare for another round.

If there is any time, it is now for you to step up, place a hand on your brother's shoulder, draw his attention and let him remember you are still here. You not need a word, only a glance for him to get up and say it's time to go.

If there is any time, it is now.

But you see the victorious gleam in his eyes, his attention fully captured in a game. There is a glow, a liveliness, a thrill and satisfaction, and he is smiling after weeks of silence, despondency, and the occasional nerve-wrecked anxiety.

And so, you let the moment slip by, keep your silence, watch your brother play until your time is up.

A kunai presses against your back, and the threat whispered in your ear is so formulaic you do not even care to listen. Instead, you only hear the amusing chatters and quarrels of your brother's friends, and the rare chuckle, as sardonically-tinted as it is, that makes you want to smile, your heart quell.

He is happy.

You are barely a footstep away from your brother when the enemies come and take you away.

:: :: ::


	8. octô

:: :: ::

In the hubbub of the crowd, you walk in silence. There is no need to talk; you know what they want.

Yet, their treasure is your grief, and under different circumstances, you might have given it to them without quarrels. Had it have been yours.

But it's not. You belong to Konoha, your clan, your brother, and nothing can be taken from you without their permission.

No matter how they press the kunai against your back, they cannot make you go faster. In this situation, they control the destination, but you control the pace. If you want to walk leisurely, then you shall. They need not worry of you stalling. A round of karuta lasts an hour at most, and you have no intention of making Sasuke wait.

You keep your eyes up front, but your vision peripheral, watching every puff of cigar, drop of a coin, slam of a sake cup, coo of a child, flip of a page.

Having enough of your slowness, they push. You collide into another pedestrian.

"Watch it!"

You do not recall the last time you have used a derisive tone, but now is the opportune time to start relearning. "I apologize, you are clearly difficult to see."

You are pleased by the reaction. "Asshole!" the pedestrian spits, and shoves you aside.

The fish in your hands drops, but your captors do not permit you to pick it up. As you walk away, the bag rolls off into the corners, the fish swimming frantically in circles.

The pages stop flipping.

Thirty minutes, you delay no longer. The crowds dwindle, the paths more desolate, and your destination is an alleyway with people waiting.

"We've got him."

"And we've got the tools." The leader of the other group smiles, his companions holding a set of medical tools and jars of solution. "We get the right eye, you the left. Fifty-fifty."

A group mumble, before, "We want the right!"

"Of course." The other bows amiably. "Then we'll take the left."

While the tools are being prepared, you are shoved to the floor, pressed against a wall.

"Hey boss, what do we do with him after we get the eyes?" asks a sharp-lipped girl.

"There's no more bounty. Leave him."

"Ain'cha worried he'd blab?"

"Who'd listen."

Pouting, she crouches down and lifts up your chin with a dagger. "What a shame. He's a pretty thing." The dagger is teasing, as it hooks the collar of your yukata and pulls it down to your collarbone. She cuts.

She grins, dangling a necklace to her boss. "Hey, I've got an idea. Let's bandage him after we're done and sell him up north. No body will care, right?"

"Ah, except the Hokage. After all the paperwork to get him back, she will be very disagreeable to find him gone."

You have little need to follow everyone's gaze to the roof. Ten consecutive strikes, and the snarling of vines later, the majority is down, weapons and tools skidding across the floor.

"You are a little late, Kakashi-san," you murmur.

Hatake Kakashi gives a dry chuckle, and holds up the swordtail. "But just in time."

"That was my fault. I had to convince Gai to do some babysitting." Yuuhi emerges from the shadows, and her gaze drops on the last conscious enemy, the girl. "Drop the weapon, child."

The response is a snarl. As sharp as a lynx, she seizes you in a lock hold and presses the dagger against your neck. "Stay back! Stay back, or he dies!"

She manages to keep them at bay, so you lower your eyelids and say, "The Hokage only cares my Sharingan remains in the village. What makes you think my life is of any value?"

She trembles, and her gaze flickers in confusion, as she debates whether to abandon you as a hostage.

"Fuck you!" She stabs your shoulder before fleeing, the weave of a silver chain necklace jiggling away. She escapes, because she is not anyone's priority. You are, as they flicker to your side. The dagger falls to the floor, and you press your hand against the wound.

"Come, we should get you to the hospital."

You whisper under your breath.

"What?"

"Seven minutes," you repeat, and give a strained smile. "I need to get back to Sasuke... he will be worried."

"Uchiha, are you craz-"

Hatake holds up a hand. He shakes his head. Yuuhi holds her gaze with him, before she goes to unravel bandages from her arms for you.

"Thank you, Kakashi-san, Kurenai-san."

When Yuuhi wraps your wound, you notice the stiffness of her hands, the tension of her back.

She is in turmoil. She obeyed you when you were allies, feared you when you were foes. Since day one you have made her tremble in respect, and now...

"Half of these people aren't nin." Her words burst out, and it makes her flinch.

"I am not nin either," you say, and her eyes fall on your seal mark. She says no more.

Hatake always conceals his anxiety well.

Your palm is sticky with red. At your request, Yuuhi places an illusion on you, and the blood vanishes.

They have your utmost gratitude when you are flickered back to the karuta table, swordtail in tow, just in time to see Naruto jumping onto the table in victory, and your brother clipping an earring to Sakura's ear. As you step closer, Sasuke is alerted of you. "Nii-san."

Leaving his friends, he joins you aside and presents a jewelry box.

"I... You wanted this one?"

You flip open the box and see three silver loops, unblemished. Coincidentally, the old one went away.

Your brother fastens the necklace around your neck. You shouldn't have let him touch you, linger a hand on your shoulder, but you do anyway.

"Thank you, Sasuke." Then a little closer, in one of those secretive smiles his mother has, "I knew you would win."

At that, your brother glows with a warmth that seems to rewind time, the smile of a child who received praise from his father, a child whose brother finally came back home. You both enjoy this moment while it lasts, because seventy-two hours later, there will be a dozen corpses burning by his feet.

:: :: ::


	9. novem

:: :: ::

The festivities end past midnight. By then, your vision has blurred, your mind dizzy. You keep your arm close to your chest, so blood will not drip down your fingers and leave a trail in the ground.

But there is not be a single change in your behavior. Your footing is balanced, breathing even, voice unbroken, face calm. They will not know, and you even deny yourself from knowing until Sasuke has led you back home, the door to the bathroom closed.

A breath escapes your lips, as water pelts down your back, and blood swirls with the water down the drain. The genjutsu is fading.

You exit the bathroom with your yukata folded, the stains and bandages hidden inside. Sasuke has not turned his back, only eye the swordtail he has emptied into a large bowl.

"How do we even take care of this thing."

You step beside him. "They do not live long," you say. "But with proper care, it can swim a few more years."

He mumbles he will get whatever you need for the fish tomorrow, filing into the bedroom without looking back. You watch him leave, and your eyes become gentle.

He is apprehensive, scared of death. The livelihood of his friends is wearing off, and you wonder if the apartment would be less quiet with his mother's hum, his father's footsteps. You wish you could soothe his unease, give him the energy that Naruto and Sakura can effortlessly give.

But you do not have that power. Like a fire, step too close, you burn him, too far, you freeze him. You can leave him passionate or leave him numb, but never alive.

"What the..." In the bedroom, Sasuke furrows his eyebrows. There is a smudge on the futon he is setting up. It's blood. "Nii-san... you haven't been bringing home any virgins, have you?" he jokes, then notices the discolored skin on his palm. It is coppery, evidence that cannot be wiped away.

"How did that happen?" you ask, kneeling by his side, but he isn't fooled by your act.

"Nii-san." His voice is shaken, suppressed. His eyes become awake, and realization hits. He does not remember you by his side throughout the night. "Where were you when I was at the karuta table."

He leaves no room for denial.

"I guess with a virgin?" you chuckle.

He is far from amused.

Within a second, your back hits the tatami, as he pulls your collar down. You avert your gaze; you do not want to face the look in his eyes, hear the hitch in his breath, nor feel the tremble in his fingers when he touches the bandages down your shoulder. "It's not the virgin bleeding."

Anger comes to cover his vulnerability. "Who did this to you," he says lowly, his voice suddenly gaining a sharp, dangerous edge.

You say nothing.

"_Who did this_."

You close your eyes. When you dare look at your brother, trying to keep from flinching, trying to loosen the tightness in your chest, you force a smile. "It is late, Sasuke. Why don't we worry of things tom-"

The little stability he has breaks under his feet. "WHO DID THIS TO YOU, NII-SAN!" he shouts, pinning your arms down, eyes spinning. He has enough.

You gasp when his gaze suddenly burns into your mind. You realize he is forcing out answers with the Sharingan, but you cannot control your chakra to break free. Your back arcs as one image after another is extracted from you, his doujutsu drilling into your memory.

He sees everything, but doesn't just stop at tonight's events. You sense the direction he is trying to tear into, and the Konoha skies begin to come into view, the wide smile of the child holding the bottle cap, the sound of the register. You cannot permit him to go any further.

You stop trying to block him. Instead, you surrender.

Your brother never thought you would drop the most guarded part of your subconscious. And like a broken dam, it floods everything, sweeps the current images away and replaces them with what makes you feel, breathe, live, what has plagued your mind every beating moment, awake or asleep, the most treasured memories you have held closest to your heart.

Sasuke sees himself.

Then, the intensity of your emotions overshadows him, and he is swept out of your mind as well.

You pull up your collar, your gaze on the tatami.

So now he knows.

Now he knows how much you love him. How bottomless the depth is, how frightening the strength is. And you have never intended to ever let him know, because it will only burden him. Knowing helps him not, except perhaps make him understand that while you are willing to die for Konoha, you only live for him.

When you do look at your brother, you see he is reeling from shock, his expression lost in confusion and conflict, fervor and fear. He swallows. You didn't expect to see him regard you with a flicker of hope.

"N-Nii-san... I... I'll deal with the people who hurt you, I'll-"

"It is late, Sasuke," you whisper. You wonder if he can he tell how desperate you are to keep him from going, to not pick up his sword. It is that desperation that makes you keep eye contact with him until he concedes.

For once, he listens.

He slides shut the window, and stays with you for the night.

:: :: ::


	10. decem

:: :: ::

By the next morning, your captors have been apprehended. You hold onto your brother's attention the following days, and he doesn't leave your side, as aggressive as a hawk protecting its territory. You pretend to not notice the additional weapons on his body when he guides you outside. You do not protest when he does not permit you to lift anything, or work. He cooks, cleans the floors. Even when you lift a blanket, he takes it out of your hands and folds them away for the morning.

"You shouldn't move your arm, nii-san."

You release your hold on the comb. You wonder when you became broken to him, that he would gather your hair back and tie it together for you.

He flies around you every waking moment, as if he has forgotten about revenge. You know better.

"Thank you, Sakura." You hear the front door close.

He trusts her. Not only of her skills, but her as a person. Few has that trust.

"Itachi-san." She knocks, then peers into the bedroom. Her demeanor, way of grace, disperses the heavy mood. "Sasuke-kun told me you're injured?"

And she came at this late hour without a fuss. Few are that reliable.

You greet her warmly, and she takes that as initiative to dart in and unlatch her bag. "Ah, I'd expect something like this from Naruto, not him," she sighs. "Honestly, he should have known better than to spar you. Boys get their own personal medic, and think life has a reset button."

You smile. Sparring is of things you could no longer service your brother with. You cannot pose any challenge for him, not anymore.

When the bandages fall, her eyes widen at the row of stitches. Sasuke will not wound you like this, and her eyes ask you for answers. You provide you none, except, "Will please you find Kakashi-san? Naruto-kun as well, if possible."

She understands the implication, and dashes out. You take the key Sasuke has hid from you, and leave as well.

By the time you step down the prison steps, there is already blood on the walls, a scream echoing the corridor. There is the sickening sound of bones against cement, of impalement, before a series of broken sobs shrinks to a whimper.

At the final turn, the flickers of black flame come into view, as does a girl pinned by a katana through her shoulder.

"_You die last_."

"N-no, don't- g-GET AWAY FROM ME-AAAH!"

A skeletal hand tears her body from her arm, holds her in a fist like a rag doll.

"N-no, p-p-please-"

"Did you think you could commit a crime against me and go unpunished," he lulls, the fist squeezing, "you..." tighter, "filthy..." and tighter, "_whore._"

"SASUKE!" Naruto's voice is unheard, and you close your eyes when the hand clenches close. There is nothing left but the splatter of blood and bone.

Slowly, the Susano'o fades and Naruto runs free of its imprisonment. He shoves his friend against the wall. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!" he screams, body shaken.

"Sasuke, they were going to face trial. You did not need-"

"No." There is the swirl of the Sharingan. His face is wiped with indifference, voice toneless. "She had the key. They were going to escape."

"Sasuke-!"

Sasuke pushes Naruto off him. "They attack you, you attack back, they attack again. Like bacteria, any loose ends and the problem returns worse than before. The only way to end the cycle, the only cure..." He pulls out his katana and the arm splashes into a puddle of blood. "... is to eliminate the enemy thoroughly, once and for all..."

"Sasuke, this is not something you can freely take into your own hands. The village-"

"Did nothing." The atmosphere turns frigid. "I saw, Kakashi. I saw my brother kidnapped in plain sight. I saw how everyone watched, turned their backs, and let the thieves parade the streets like heroes." The grip on his katana is shaking, his knuckles white. "_And they dare be happy, dare have that glee in their eyes to know my brother suffers_."

The conversation does a dangerous turn, as the Sharingan spins for more blood.

"It's not like that," Naruto's voice comes out as a croak. " They... they don't _know-_"

"And that gives them the right to cripple my brother," Sasuke states chillingly, "to strip him of the power to even defend himself, then impassively watch him be assaulted."

"Sasuke," Kakashi says calmly. "Regardless of what everyone else has or has not done, look what you have done first."

Sasuke stares at the blood at his feet, the semblance of a twisted human hand with a silver necklace weaved around the fingers.

"I have done nothing but keep Konoha safe."

Your chakra is too weak, and Sasuke's is too strong. No one can sense you. You are gone before they can.

Sakura awaits above. She wants to go down, has been debating even if they have told her not to. But you exploit her sense of duty and morals. When you ask her politely for medical assistance, she cannot refuse.

By the time your brother returns home, the darkest hour has already passed, and you lie in your futon, eyes closed.

You do not react when his fingers glide across your cheek. "I'll protect you, nii-san," he whispers. "I promise... I'll destroy anyone who dares hurt you." You do not react to the brush of his lips against yours.

The sun shines next morning. The kitchen is filled with Sakura's radiance as she assembles a tank.

"Nii-san, I finally got it." Your brother grins at you when he steps out of the bath, drying his hair with a towel. Sakura reaches for a fern, accidentally knocks it off the counter. He catches it, then proceeds to help her fill the tank.

"You know, I still can't believe the little one is still alive," Sakura muses at the lively swordtail.

The scene requires a third actor, and your mouth find words on its own. "What do you mean?"

At this, Sakura scratches her head in embarrassment. "They're a little more sensitive than I thought. I didn't have much time to care for mine, so I gave it to mom. She, uhh... isn't the most attentive person. And Naruto, let's just say he kept his in a ramen cup. The idiot didn't know to change the water."

Naruto may not be alone. Here, your brother intentionally keeps quiet, pretending to focus on his job. Here, you raise an eyebrow, and tease, "Actually...-" before your brother snaps his head and glares at you to shut up.

When the swordtail is situated in its new environment, Sakura follows the swimming critter with smiling eyes, as she takes a bite of rice. Your brother sits closely by your side and enjoys the meal as well, his mood lightened.

You do not eat, only stare at the water gleam at every ripple, the swirling orange tail luminescent. Yet, you see drops of blood, red webs threading thin.

You could have said something last night. You could have commanded him to stop. But for your brother's inner peace and satisfaction, for the tranquility of the next morning, you let them all die.

:: :: ::


	11. ûndecim

:: :: ::

"He is placed on probation."

You have no response, only pour a cup of tea for your guest.

Hatake stares you down with a weary eye, waiting for you to carry the conversation, to not make it any more difficult. But you have no ill words towards your brother, and they know better than to seek them from you. Your mother's loyalty runs through your blood.

"My brother has much burden on his shoulders," you whisper, settling the pot down. "Perhaps he acted rashly, or misjudged, but his heart is of only good intentions."

"Itachi-san, two nights ago-"

"Whatever happened," you interrupt politely, "I beg to not place too much blame on him."

There is a stretching silence. No matter how heavy the sun is, the apartment has lost all warmth. Instead, you are pulled back in time. Hidden behind shouji screens, you would kneel before them, your gaze down as you plea to your clan to spare the village, plea to your village to spare the clan. And you must wonder if fate has but looped around once more.

What Hatake says next is his true question. "Either way, it was unfortunate he found out."

"Some things are inevitable. After all, the purpose of secrets is to be uncovered."

"Aa, it's all a matter of how then."

His persistence, his intrusion, he is not a man known for either. You gather this is less a concerned sensei and more a shinobi on a mission. Since the knock on the door, you knew you will not be given peace today.

"Yes," you say. "My brother, for example, is not the type to be political. Once he is aware, he would never indulge me with a vague, circuitous conversation over tea to get answers."

His eye smiles. "No, I would suspect he would be direct, even forceful, with getting what he wants."

You return his smile. "Sasuke has lived his entire life in patience. I can understand why he would be sick of waiting."

"To the extent he would penetrate his brother's mind without permission."

The pretense ends. You bring the tea to your lips and murmur, "Yes."

"Itachi-san." His voice is suddenly tired and weighted. "You may have used your Sharingan on Sasuke in the past, but that does not entitle him the right to use it on you whenever he wishes. He knew all his victims by face, he gave details words don't carry. It was clear that he invaded into your memories."

"Are you worried of my safety? Or scared I cannot be trusted with Konoha's secrets anymore."

From his reaction, you hit target. But you suspected of this long since. To Konoha, you have but two uses. To bind your brother to this village, and to act as a buffer when your brother steps out of line. You are their tool to gather intelligence, to control and stop him if need be, nothing more.

Hatake remains tactful, stepping outside his mission momentarily to return to his own self. "I am more concerned that whatever form of past guilt or love you hold for him may be blinding your judgments," he says, "make you forgive him too easily for his wrongdoings."

"Like Naruto-kun, who forgave for my brother?"

"Naruto is different, he is..."

"In question," you finish for him, to his surprise. "Kakashi-san, things like guilt and love can only make you overlook or forget. But to forgive is to understand."

You lace your fingers around the cup. "As long as Naruto-kun understands Sasuke, he will be able to forgive Sasuke for his crimes. Likewise, because I understand my brother, I can never harbor any ill will towards him, regardless of what wrong he commits. Kakashi-san, please tell them that if they wish to use me to incriminate my brother, I will serve as poor evidence. Instead, they should perhaps turn their attention to the source of their ailments."

"And this entire conversation, I thought that was your brother."

"You point in a direction, but not at a target. For a single weed, you burn the field. For a single field, you burn the forest. To me, the loss of my brother is the loss of my life, but to Konoha, it is the loss of an ideology, of a pride, of a lineage, of a future great Hokage and his belief."

You reveal just enough. Hatake has gathered your stance, one reassuring enough for the village. You will not resist them when the time comes.

He stares at the mark on your face until he offers, "We can give you a second seal that will protect your privacy of mind... just in case this happens again."

And they expect it to happen again. Only, the next time Sasuke snaps, the village will have less mercy. Perhaps fate really has circled, but you have changed. Your old self fell to hubris, thought betrayal was a step towards salvation, thought by gathering the most information and power, you could decide the best judgment.

Now, you know that is not your place. You do not need Konoha's secrets, will not serve as their spy, will not turn against your brother, and privacy is a small, if not negligible, sacrifice to leave the battlefield.

"I cannot say I approve of Sasuke's methods, but at this stage, trust is most healthy for him. He deserves a brother who does not hide things from him."

Hatake respects your decision. His mission is done, and so he readies he leave.

Before he can go, you add, "Sometimes, in preparing for the worst, people neglect the solution for the best. My brother has the potential to bring this village either glory or woe. Which will ultimately depend on what this village is... his cure or his disease."

He hesitates a step. "Which are you?"

You smile. That answer is obvious.

:: :: ::


	12. duodecim

:: :: ::

The Hokage has given mercy. A probation is not a criminal charge. It's a temporary suspension, nothing more than a vacation.

That knowledge does not lighten the heaviness in your heart. It does not return the taste in your mouth, the hours at night. Nor does it ease your worry whenever you have bad premonitions like this. You were in ANBU before, and understand probation is not made for traitorous shinobi, but breaking ones. It can be the most clear indicator of failing mental health, and you are not certain forcing Sasuke to your side is the best resolve.

But your brother is pleased. He does not care for arrest nor the Aburame bugs on the ceiling, as long as he can be with you without the interruption of other concerns. The apartment is quiet, as he leans against your arm and reads a scroll. You stitch the symbol of the Uchiha on another shirt, because your brother goes through clothes rapidly, tending to burn or tear the fabrics. But he threw away his last set with neither burns nor tears. They stained, he told you, and you didn't question.

"Nii-san," he calls your attention, and you turn your head. "Do you think Naruto is contagious?"

"Why do you ask?"

He scoffs, showing you the scroll. "Because I caught his stupidity. I believe I wasted about three hours reading this crap, _then_ realized... I probably should have just asked you."

There is something in his tone of voice that is nostalgic, that makes your heart stop for a moment as you settle down your needle. You reach for his scroll, and recognize the material.

"Genjutsu..."

"Written by some amateur author who never performed it in his life. It's almost insulting that I'd be reading this, considering the world has unanimously agreed that you are the most skilled genjutsu expert in existence, and... I think I got that shuriken down..." You are taken aback when he ends hanging and averts his gaze. Your brother does not talk in such a manner; he does not let his intonation waver, nor leave his sentences open to doubt. Or rather... he hasn't in a long, long time.

"Uchiha Sasuke," you say, keeping the corner of your lip from quivering upwards, "after all these years, are you still coaxing me to train you?"

He retorts too defensively, "It's not as if you have anything significant to do."

You hold up your stitchwork in response, then after absorbing his reaction, laugh and settle it down. "It wouldn't matter if I did," you tell him with a smile. "Where do you need help in?"

You have not seen that delight in his eyes in ages, not after that last broken shuriken promise. And because of it, you have always thought that you lost your last chance. It seems you thought wrong.

Your brother has always been a fast learner, beyond the gift of his eyes. He picks things up quickly, is innovative, to the point you cannot decide whether to challenge him to his limit, or stall and savor the moment while you can. But either way, you need only explain once and point in a direction, and he will follow.

"... efficient to conceptualize in spherical dimensions instead of cartesian. When the Sharingan memorizes an object, it does not fill a silhouette, but go towards the center of mass, then expand outwards. Project this image in this same spatial process, but reversed, to get a depiction of volume and mass. Visual details, the Sharingan will automatically record and imprint as a temporal eidetic, so focus on the other senses."

Your brother keeps his eyes closed, before he reopens them and stares at the apple resting on your lap. You watch him repeat the process several times, examining the spin of his eyes, taking note of its direction and speed. His eyes are healthy.

He frowns. "I can't tell if it's working."

"Then cast it upon me, and we'll see," you say, and his eyes dart up to you.

"Are you sure, nii-san?"

You smile. "Don't worry."

He glances down at the apple one last time before he concedes. You stare into the swirl of his Sharingan, and feel the flow of chakra in your mind change, the atmosphere break away and be replaced by chirping. Sun beats down, and you look at the shuffling trees above, lift your arms and feel the breeze. A snake slither pasts your foot, and you follow it into a clearing.

Of all the places to recreate, your brother has chosen this one, a training field with eight hidden targets. In your hands are only four kunai. The four others, you soon understand, are shooting down at an accelerating speed. You do not question Sasuke's intent, only does as he wants. Nine clicks later, there are seven respective thuds and a crack, the last kunai having flown past your brother's ear.

He rests on top of the old boulder.

"That was good, Sasuke," you say. "You read my intents well, but..." You point towards the last target behind him. "That one is not a board, is it?"

He smirks, and nods for you to see for yourself. Instead of a target board behind the boulder, there is a smashed apple is nailed to the ground by a kunai.

"I didn't miss," you say. "I thought I would have."

"Are you doubting yourself nii-san?" he growls, flickering to your side. "Of course you didn't miss. Everything went perfectly."

"It's a shame I aimed to miss then."

When he is speechless, you place a hand on his shoulder. "Do not fall back on expectations, or else your illusion will be seen through." With that, you leave to survey his work, and admit he has grown. The last fight, your brother could bend genjutsu cast his way, but was limited in creating his own, and relied on snakes as a focal point to ground his illusions.

Now, his world has become more independent and vivid, the sky with moving clouds, speckled shades across the target boards, grass damp and fresh. Some details need refinement, but he has capture the essence of the place. And Sasuke knows you like it, find it beautiful. He knows you have kept this place precious in your memories, but never brought it up because it was destroyed during the Akatsuki invasion.

It makes you wonder if he planned this, that he practiced endlessly on his own, and now used training as an excuse to show you his results. Either way, he has succeeded. Some sentiment is sinking into you, and you don't want to leave, but sit by his side and enjoy the peace.

The apple reconstructs itself. When the snake brings it to you, you twirl it by the stem and smile. "The texture is excellent. A little too symmetric, but not bad."

Before your brother can say anything, you take a bite.

He winces. "Don't-"

With some difficulty, you swallow it down. "More like a tomato than an apple." You keep your criticism gentle. "Maybe a little sweeter next time."

"You weren't supposed to eat it!"

"It looked tempting," you chuckle, and hand him the apple. "And taste is as important as touch. You must command all senses here, not just ones that suit you."

He looks away in irritation, and takes a violent bite. "What if I don't like it sweet."

"Maybe I do."

He scoffs. But at the same time, he has made the apple sweeter and delicious for your tongue. You know this because you can taste it on his lips, from when he has decided to pull you into his arms and kiss you.

Your eyes widen.

You have caught your mistake too late.

:: :: ::


	13. trêdecim

:: :: ::

Your brother will always chase you. But sometimes, you cannot let him get any closer. Sometimes, you need to create excuses and run away. Sometimes, you need to give a tap to his forehead, keep him at bay, nudge him back on the right path.

This is your fault. You were too careless and let him finally catch you.

You cannot move. Even when the shock settles in, you remain locked in place, because your brother is warm, his lips sweet, affectionate, if not a bit hungry and persistent. His touches feel natural, and your body makes no protest, only long that he doesn't stop, that you can surrender yourself to him, that he treats you kindly. Sasuke, your own brother, your own blood, is kissing you, and you want nothing except to kiss him back.

You are unclean, and your love is a crime. But your foolish little brother does not understand that. He doesn't understand, only holds onto you, in admiration or pain, anger or tenderness.

"Nii-san..." he murmurs against your lips.

But before he can say more, you escape his hold. You reach for excuses, and see the apple forgotten on the ground, bitten, bruised, dirtied.

"I should go prepare dinner," you whisper.

"Wait, nii-san-"

"Sasuke."

Your brother stops, because your tone is unforgiving.

You cast your gaze down. Softer, you force a smile and try again. "Your genjutsu has improved. We can work on this some more, next time."

He knows you are lying. You will never let the opportunity arise again. You will run away, give yourself time to understand why his affections has swung in this dangerous direction, figure out how to keep it from going further. But unlike past times, you cannot simply escape from him. Your brother is in control for as long as he can hold you in this illusion, and he has no intentions of ending it here.

So you will experience his proximity, as he tucks back your hair and tells you, "Nii-san, it's okay. No one can see us."

Your gut wrenches, and you are left wondering how much of this is impulse and how much is planned, the extent your brother understands what he is asking of you. "Sasuke, let me go."

"No." He closes the remaining gap, and you can feel his breath against your skin, his arms pulling you into an embrace. "I know you want to stay a little longer. I read into you, nii-san, I know you love this place, I know this is what you want, and-"

"And I appreciate this," you interrupt. "For giving me this, thank you, Sasuke. But I believe it is best we go back to reality now."

The air stills, and so does he. The world is losing its focus, and you see your brother shake from his foundation. You are not relenting, you are not returning his touches. Still, he pushes forward and gives a dry grin. "But reality is as we define it, right, nii-san?"

You don't want to hurt him. "Not as this." But you do.

A piece of him breaks apart, as fear and doubt slip in, and his defenses bolt and lock away the heart he thought he could entrust to you. You use his moment of weakness to free and distance yourself.

"Please Sasuke, take me back to Konoha."

And all shatters. The birds disappear, the trees blow to dust, and the paradise falls from under your feet. The gift he must have trained days to give you is replaced by nothing but heaviness, pressure, and the cold.

Your brother regains the sensation in his fingers and clenches a fist.

"Konoha." He hisses, shaking. "Konoha, Konoha. With you, it is always _Konoha_. The village doesn't own you, nii-san, you aren't a slave to their orders, and you aren't their tool to be used however they like. I know you want to be with me, so why do you always run back to them! Look at what they have done to you, you were the greatest of shinobi, and they... they-!"

"They gave me back life, and a second chance."

"After they took away your first!" His anger vibrates, but you can say nothing to appease it.

"I made my own choices."

"And you chose _me_, not the village! You died for _me_. You... you love _me_."

"Because you are my brother, Sasuke," you say softly. "You are my family-"

"Is family the reason you killed our mother and father?"

It is your turn to feel the sharp twist of the blade, your breathing halt and your throat constrict. You close your eyes, and find you have nothing to say.

"You love me deeper than blood. You can lie to me all you want, nii-san, but that's the one truth you can't hide."

He pulls you to him, but you do not make eye contact. His grip on your shoulder is too tight and desperate, his fingernails digging into your skin. He will not let you go.

In a whisper, you ask him, "What do you want from me, Sasuke?"

Your question slows him down, removes passion's hold on him while he asks himself and searches you for answers. For what he wants. For what you can give him. For what you _will_ give him, which you both know is everything if he only pushes a little more. Your back is already against a wall, and he needs only say the right words that can collapse you to your knees. Just a little more, and nothing can stop him.

But his hand has faltered. His nails don't break your skin, he doesn't kiss you a second time, because he realized this isn't what he wanted this to be. He didn't devote his time to create a hell. He brought to here to give you joy, not to fight you, raise a hand to you, force or hurt you.

"Our family has been dead for a decade, nii-san," he says. "I've come into acceptance of that they're gone. I don't need you here to make up for them. I don't want you to try to be our parents for me, to cook or clean for me, protect me. Right now, I just want you, nii-san, because I've realized... I love you too."

You give a weak smile, and wonder how it can be possible for your heart to beat this lively, but your body to grow this fatigued.

"Then let me go, Sasuke."

He will not.

"Please."

By the time you open your eyes, the apartment is empty. You will spend the night before two bowls of cold rice.

The swordtail swims languidly, watches your lips pull into a smile as tears fall down your face.

:: :: ::


	14. quattuordecim

:: :: ::

Solitude is where a hawk finds solace. If your brother does not want company, then no one can find him.

You are the exception, but he deserves peace, time and privacy of mind, and you will not take that away.

"I don't know."

The ANBU do not play games.

"Uchiha Itachi, your brother has been placed on probation for killing twelve prisoners without the permission of the government, and now, he has escaped at the expense of two debilitated ANBU. I should not have to tell you how serious this situation is, for the both of you."

"I don't know where he is," you repeat, and are yanked to your feet by another ANBU. You feel a tear at your shoulder.

"Listen, you criminal piece of shit, whatever you're scheming, if you continue abusing our Hokage's mercy, and ruining her good name, I swear by god I will act as your gallows and strangle you myself."

His mask hovers close, his voice a hiss, his grip crushing. But you return his threat with apathy, and no words past, "Please don't bruise me."

"Why you-!"

A palm breaks off the attack, as a fold of white separates the incensed ANBU from you.

"Assault our witness again, and I will place you on permanent suspension."

"But taichou-!"

"Get out." The captain scans across the room, and adds, "All of you."

When the apartment clears, he lowers his hood. "Forgive his impudence. Fresh blood. Strong sense of patriotism."

"No," you say, lowering your eyes. "He loves a person, not a land... and that is always stronger." Before the captain can comment, you abruptly say, "Your time is valuable. What do you want?"

"For you to swear to the truth before us. You know the consequences if you lie."

You bow your head.

"You do not know where Uchiha Sasuke could have gone."

"I do not."

"Do you know why he would do this."

"We had a fight. One of us had to leave, and I..." You tuck your hair back and reveal the seal mark. "... was not in the position to do that."

"What was the fight about."

You pause. Then, "Do you have siblings?"

It appears he does, or once did, because he speaks of the topic no longer. "How much do you think he is a threat to security."

"My brother is not a violent person," you whisper.

His pen stops. "The fact remains twelve men are dead and two are paralyzed. It is also obvious he has no regard for the law."

When you fall to silence, he turns to the kitchen table, cleared except for two pairs of chopsticks aligned on either side. There are rings imprinted on the table, evidence you have not had the energy to wipe before the squadron came and surrounded you. But the smell of food has long left the air, and the only thing that remains in this apartment is you.

The captain examines you through the contours of his mask, through human eyes, and gives in.

"We will notify you once we locate him," he says, closing his investigation book. "In the meantime, I suggest you get some rest." His gaze lands on the fresh blood spotting through your shirt. "If you wish, we can send you a medic of your request."

You give your gratitude. Before the captain leaves, you say, "If you do see him... will you please tell him I wish to speak to him."

Your request is received.

Sakura rings in the following morning, still in the muddled hours of sleep. She gives a yawn and formalities forgotten, asks, "Alright, who is it this time? Sasuke-kun electrocute himself trying to get past security or what?"

"He is not here."

Sakura spares a moment to absorb the implications, and sighs. "I'll fetch Naruto and Sai." This has become a rustic routine to her, her mind already running over her defense plea to the Hokage while her teammates does the hunt. Your brother's friends are his mercy, they are his gateway to a safe return.

When she first sees the reopened wound, the pull of a stitch or two, she hesitates. She doesn't want to ask, but has to. "Sasuke-kun...-"

"He didn't do this."

"Sorry, stupid question," she mumbles. "Don't let this happen again, okay? The scar will worsen."

Soon, mechanical noises fill the room. Her touches are not gentle, but nonetheless precise and quick. And despite her experience, she has managed to retain her warmth. Her breathing is softer than most soldiers, smell still innocent in shampoo. You do not make eye contact with her, but your glance traces up to her hair, her ear, to see a lone silver earring.

"That's beautiful on you."

She follows your gaze. "Ah thanks... Sasuke-kun said that too..." She brushes her hair aside to showcase it, and you note the pressure of the clasp against her ear to keep it in place. The surrounding skin is red, and will swell if worn too long.

"You have no piercing."

"Tsunade-shishou will murder me if I do," she snorts.

"May I?"

At your request, she nods and drops the earring into your palm. The silver is of the same purity as the necklace you wear. And you wonder, if you never came back, what path would your brother have taken, where would his heart have swayed.

Sakura is an honest girl. Everyone in the village knows where her heart lies. Only, she doesn't pursue your brother anymore, but waits for him, gives one last try, because he has not denied her since his return. She has matured though, and if he still does not return her feelings, she will let go.

You have thought your brother would have accepted her hand before that happened, because you have seen how he is before her, seen their friendship and trust, how he doesn't rejects her. And maybe you have focused too much on that, why you have become blind to his pauses and looks in your direction, the touches he gives you more frequently than you would like to acknowledge.

Sasuke does not hesitate. He has realized his true affections before you could, and so he makes the first move.

After a brief glance, you take a pair of scissors from the medical kit, and use it to pinch the one end of the earring clasp.

"Itachi-san, what are you..."

You twist the other end back, then click close the earring around her ear once more.

Her hand goes to touch it. "I... can't feel it."

"I gave the ends a little more surface area. Hopefully that will reduce the pressure on your ear."

"Oh..." She is lost in contemplation of your work, but she recovers, glowing. "Ah, thank you, Itachi-san."

You only hope that, maybe, this will encourage her to wear it just a little longer.

:: :: ::


	15. quîndecim

:: :: ::

There is a flash of lightning, as rain wets the floorboards. After you close the door, you present your brother a towel. He doesn't move, so you pat the towel along his cheek, hang it across his neck to catch the water dripping down his hair.

"You must be hungry." You break the silence first. "Why don't you take a bath, while I prepare something to eat?"

Before you can leave, he asks, "Are you going to pretend none of this happened?" and you stop.

"They said you wanted to talk to me." His voice raises in a tremble. "Well?"

The air becomes as thick as the storm outside, and you quiet your own unease before you face him again. "Sasuke, I know nothing you do is meaningless," you say. "And I will not disrespect you by not acknowledging what you want me to know. I just do not want to have our conversation while you are cold, and exposed to illnesses."

You watch his muscles lose tension, as he touches the towel on his shoulder. When you regain back some of his trust, he quietly leaves for the bathroom.

There are three days of leftovers, but you nonetheless prepare him a bowl of fresh rice, and boil a light soup, because while he has not eaten for days, he has no appetite and will not touch anything heavier.

Your brother hasn't lightened by the time he returns in dry clothes. He picks up chopsticks, but his movements are backed by no vigor.

"You're still going to say no," he says after a long silence. His throat is dry, and he stills his hand from shaking. "But you don't understand. Don't mistaken me for a confused teenager, nii-san. It's not... I wouldn't care if we never..."

He trails off.

"You would not mind if we never have sex?" you finish for him gently. "As long as we can be together, you would be fine even if we never touched again? Is that what you want to say, Sasuke?"

He doesn't correct you, and you relax your shoulders. "As you grew up, you might have noticed your friends develop physical attractions and fall in love for reasons beyond their knowing, but you do not. Do you know why?

"It's because our clansmen are children of Heaven, not Earth. We communicate through the mind, love with the mind, and only after thought do we understand who we love. However, other people do it through body and touch, and their bodies have already told them what is beautiful, so they need not think, only know.

"But both body and mind have shortcomings. Some have an instinctual opposition to some things, while our clan does not. The mind is blind to things like sex, age, or blood, thus why our clan was the first to accept homosexuality, polygamy, pedophilia, and incest. Some resulted in nothing, some in harmonious marriages, and some in disaster."

You pause. "Sasuke, our parents have no opposition either. Nor do I."

His chopsticks slam down. "Then why!" he shouts. "Then why do you still push me away! If you can accept even incest, then why don't you..."

Why don't you accept _him_, but his voice is choked out from under.

You close your eyes. Your brother will not like the truth, but you have lost the right to keep it away from him. He deserves to know and make his own decisions.

"Because you are young, Sasuke," you tell him. "You are strong, handsome, with a bright future. You have the people's respect, and the prestige of our clan. You have a place to belong to, a village who will protect you, provide you companionship as you age."

"What does the village have to do with anything between us!"

"Nothing, except I am pulling you away from it." You cannot lift your gaze. "I have caused you to endure a lot of hardships, Sasuke. I had everyone by my side as I grew up, but you didn't. You were too young then. You persevered in school, trained hard, only to come back home late at night, alone, to balance homework and chores."

"I handled myself fine, nii-san," he says dryly.

"Yes, you did," you say. "But the hours of sleep you lost, the meals you skipped, the loneliness you felt as you grew up... you are my brother, Sasuke. I cannot bear to have you suffer, and if I could ease your living now, be someone you can return home to, free some burdens from your hands, I would. But... that is all I can give you."

His jaw is tight, knuckles digging into the wood of the table in fear of words you do not wish to say.

"Whatever the excuse, the fact remains I did what I did. My name is disgraced. Any closer, and I will only bring you shame, and turn the village against you."

You do not wince when you hear the smash of ceramic, as the soup soaks into the floor. "NII-SAN, DON'T-!"

"And even if you find that an acceptable sacrifice, Sasuke," you continue quietly, "before you ruin your name for me, think once more... what is it you want from me? What do you want me to give you?

"You have forgiven me, Sasuke, but cannot trust me. I have hurt and deceived you too many times to provide you safety or comfort. Nor can I give you children, complete a family, past or future. And most importantly, while I can give you love, love is not the same as happiness. All throughout your life, I have made you suffer the most, but I have not been responsible for making you the happiest."

You meet his eyes and give a sad smile. "This village is responsible for that. You must have realized that your fondest memories lie with them. Your friends are the ones who will never betray you, be there in your time of need, bring a smile in your darkest days. Even now, they are searching for you. They are taking the heat from the Hokage for you, so you will be safe from arrest. I create your miseries, Sasuke, but they save you from it. Do not close your heart around me, not when they exist, and can bring you immense joy if you would only open to them.

"I have never pushed your affections in any particular direction. Love is not a duty, and I have never told you to marry a respectable woman nor continue the clan lineage. I only want you to live in health and happiness, and whether the person who can give you that is a man or woman, wealthy or poor, grand or plain... I have no objections."

You overstep the mess on the floor, and pour for your brother a second bowl. His eyes never leave you, afraid you might vanish. But you return to him, and take his hand from across the table.

"I am already by your side, little brother, and given you everything I could. But I have little more to offer you if we go any deeper. So don't give any more of yourself to me, not when you deserve someone who can serve you better."

His fingers numbly curl around yours. He shallows once, before his lips pull into a wry smile. "You never say what you want... do you, nii-san?"

He pulls his hand away and stands up. You have finished what you have wanted to say, and nothing is left to keep him there.

The door to the bedroom slides a crevice, and he whispers, "I don't know why you do it. You want me more than I want you."

The door slams close.

His words pierce you, but you say nothing. While your brother suffers, you have no time to nurture your own heartache.

:: :: ::


	16. sêdecim

:: :: ::

"Sometimes-" _Achoo_. "I swear-" _Achoo_. "You're doing this just for kicks!" Naruto points an accusatory finger, then aims his nose at the ceiling, and sneezes again. "Damn! I hope obaa-chan nails your ass hard for this!"

"Naruto, enough!" Sakura reprimands, popping a thermometer into his mouth. "Sasuke-kun, don't listen to him. I've talked to the Hokage. The probation was unreasonable. It's unhealthy and would annoy anyone's nerves to be confined to a space this small, and..."

You slide the bedroom door behind you, passing a cursory glance towards the kitchen table. Your brother focuses harder on his tea.

"Here, Naruto-kun." You offer a set of blankets. "It's too late to hang your clothes. I will deal with them in the morning. In the meantime, I believe it's best you stay with us for the night."

"What?"

Sakura pulls the thermometer out of his mouth and frowns. "Itachi-san might be right on this one. You're in no condition to be home alone, and I doubt you want to go to the hospital."

Naruto flickers his gaze between you and Sakura, jaw slackened. He rubs his nose. "Wait, really? I can stay?"

"Sasuke has the final say. But for the troubles we've caused you, I do not think he will have any objections."

As expected, your brother remains quiet when you pass by him again and turn on the sink. A rain-soaked Naruto only made his appearance after dinner, and the growl of his stomach was conspicuous.

You feel a gaze on your back as you cook, but your brother had no words for you last night, nor any now. He will communicate after he is done with thought, but whatever torn feelings, he will not let surface. He does not trouble others, but carries his burdens, a weight you can hear in his footsteps, his tea left unfinished on the table.

"Don't make a mess, dobe."

His friends stop their banter midway, just as the bedroom door closes.

"Isn't he Mr. Congeniality."

"Naruto! Be grateful!"

Before they break into another argument, you ask, "Sakura-san, do you wish to join us for dinner?" You suspect due her involvement in recent events, she has not eaten either.

While Sakura is shy to accept, another voice answers for her, "Yeah! Oi, Itachi, you mind whipping up two bowls of miso ramen? Pretty please?"

Your hand pauses before the stove, and you turn to see Naruto clap his hands together in a beg.

"Naruto!" Sakura cries in dismay. "You're a _guest_. You can't just-"

"Shio." They turn to you in confusion, and you bow your head. "I do not have the ingredients for miso, but if you have the patience, I can try my hand at shio ramen."

"Ah, Itachi-san, you don't have to..."

You open the cabinets. "It is good for recovering from illness, I believe."

There is a cheer from Naruto's direction, as fists beat the air. Then, another sneeze, forceful enough shake the apartment.

In the early hours of morning, you sense your brother's presence behind you.

"He's feverish," you say, picking up the blanket that has fallen off the couch amidst a night of shuffling. "I should-"

Your brother frees the blanket from your hands. "You should mind your business." Without sparing you an extra look, he covers his friend, sprawled limbs ignored. "From now on, you don't wash his dirty laundry nor stay up all night because of his stupid requests for ramen. He is a world-class shinobi with the regenerative powers of the kyuubi, and the worst illness he'll ever get is explosive diarrhea."

He files into the kitchen to prepare tea. "He's my responsibility. Go back to sleep, nii-san."

You watch your brother focus on his hands. He moves efficiently, and brushes past you. Before long you hear a wring of clothes, as he hangs them out to dry. You are not needed.

In the bedroom, you notice a breeze, and can hear chirping.

The window is open.

The following days, the disappearing key returns. The door is unlocked when Sasuke leaves to face his hearing. And after his release, he makes no objection when Naruto, recovered and well, invites you to his favorite restaurant as gratitude.

But the biggest surprise comes in the form of a narrow box wrapped in cloth. It rests on the table, but you do not address it until after the dishes and you have patted your hands dry.

Your brother waits, then nudges it forward.

You unwrap the cloth and trace your fingers along an intricate set of designs in keyaki, smell still strong and ancient. This is not a trivial gift. But then again, he does no trivial actions.

The lock opens, and you withdraw a fan forged only for the highest of generals. You already anticipate what it will unfold, and yet, when you see the proud red and white of the clan symbol gleam upon the tessen, your hands turn weak.

After you regain your voice, you dare ask, "Sasuke, what is the meaning of this...?"

"Under the Konoha code, it's technically not a weapon," he says dryly. "When you go outside, I want you to carry that. And if need be, show to anyone who challenges you of your name and honor, because as of today, as clan head of the Noble Clan of Uchiha, I acknowledge you as my elder brother... and officially accept you back as a member of the Uchiha clan."

You tighten your grip so the fan will not fall. "Sasuke, I..."

"You protected the Uchiha."

Your gaze snaps to him.

His eyes are hardened and strong, his fists kneading into his lap. "I make no judgment of what our clan planned to do ten years ago. All I know is, it was probable the entire clan would have been decimated. But because you protected me, the Uchiha still lives today. In my eyes, in the _Uchiha's_ eyes, that is worthy of redemption."

It seems your heart had reached up and closed your throat. This is not something you dare dream, as you fold the fan and return it to its royal casing. You are left thinking why your brother would do this. Why you have been given a forgiveness you should not have, a love you do not deserve, and now, a pride cannot accept, not when you look at the pain within your brother every day and know it is your hand that dealt it.

"Sasuke...-"

"This isn't what you think. This is something overdue, and I would have done it regardless of what you say." He doesn't break eye contact. "But as for what you've wanted me to know, I've listened, and I... I accept it."

You have waited for his answer, but it still is unexpected.

"Are you certain, Sasuke?" you ask softly, and in a moment's flicker, you see that he is not. There is a spirit within him to keep fighting, a will to try again, say something to persuade you, push past the table to cup your face and kiss you in reality. But it dims just as fast, and he moves not.

"You say you'll be by my side, nii-san. If you promise to keep to that, then yes." His words come out quiet but dour, tinted of a contract but backed by no threat. This is his compromise.

You close the case, letting your fingers linger upon the engravings. "You will accept other people?"

When he nods, you quell the pain in your chest with a smile. "Then I promise."

But you understand he is not done. Before you leave, he asks for one more thing. "... You asked me what I want from you."

"Yes."

"I- only once, if I-"

"Yes," you repeat, your hand at the door, the other pressing his gift to your chest. "You may, Sasuke."

:: :: ::


	17. septendecim

:: :: ::

Every day of your recovery, your brother has been on vigil watch, attended to you like a filial son. A cup of brewed tea await you every morning. The pile of laundry is always managed.

You understand the Hokage has been at the end of her generosity, and his punishment hasn't been the kindest. His duties leave him bleary faced and torn every night, but he does not sleep before you do, checking the temperature and the need for extra bedding. And he is gone for long hours before you wake up one weekend, and find a modest bowl of oden on the kitchen table.

"If it tastes bad, just throw it out." His gaze is focused on the scrubber and pot in his hands, but you look at him while his back is turned to you. You look at him, and it aches your heart as you reach for the pair of chopsticks. Everything tastes delicious, because by your brother's side is a garbage bin of his other attempts, plastic wrap and paper bags shoved on top to cover the evidence.

When you are done, you wrap yourself in the jacket he has given you days prior. The door has been unlocked for a month now, but his hands still just a second. Just the second he pleads you not to go. He will treat you kindly, give you anything, stay in the village and do as you say, if you would only not go.

"Sasuke, I'm going to the market. Is there anything you want?"

"No."

He doesn't stop you from leaving. But you sting him with betrayal when you close the door.

Though the air is chilly, you move slowly. There will not be much trouble. People turn their attentions inwards in the dormancy of winter, and nothing of the incident following the festival has leaked into the public.

"You're early."

Hatake glances up from his book, but doesn't set it aside. He invites you inside the cafe, quiet and of little business.

"Sakura said you can lift your arm now."

You give a small smile. "I've been under good care."

"She was thanked rather kindly for her efforts," he continues, flipping a page. "Her latest treatment, along with some surprisingly docile behavior, has made the Hokage reconsider. If this keeps up, your brother returns to regular duty next month."

He examines you from his peripheral. "You've talked to him. He listened."

His words do not bring you joy. Always, your brother listens to you. But sometimes he listens with defiance, and other times, with sacrifice. If you ask him to let you go, he will take a katana to his very hand and sever it. It does not mean he can release his grip.

Instead, he can force himself away, restrain his hand from touching you, keep his gaze away. He can reconcile with mistreated friends, obey authority. As long as you tell him to, he can and will. He has the discipline to resist himself, even if the drift starts to ache, and he starts to break.

But while your actions are breaking him, your brother also knows that his are breaking you, and faster. You will succumb to his will as he has to yours.

Placed on the table is a package wrapped in cloth, untampered. You thank Hatake for his assistance, and leave.

That night, you take a bath, cleanse your body of as much impurities as possible. When your brother returns from his proceedings, you relieve him of his jacket and unravel his scarf, your arms on his shoulder, his breath as tangible as visible. The gesture is not unlike the time he wrapped the obi around your waist. Your fingers brush as thoughtful from the nape of his neck around to his clavicle, as his had from your navel to your back.

The significance of the act may have been lost before, but this time the intimacy escapes neither his notice nor yours. These trivial actions have long defined a relationship beyond brotherhood. What either of you say of it has no bearings now.

You help store away the garments. By the time you turn around, your brother has already seized your arm. You are confronted with earnest eyes, and the final distance close between his lips and yours. He holds you firm, but his kiss is gentle, cautious.

There is no need. You do not resist his grip. When he takes your lips again, you kiss back. What may have begun as illusory, deniable, soon tastes real, a dangerous scandal.

Knowing this, you only go deeper, invite your brother into your mouth, a hand against the back of his head for support. It's too late to go back on your word, and he will not stop, even if you struggle or suffocate. This is the one time, the only time, and he holds to you like a lifeline.

Your feet keep in sync with his, as you back one step after another. Your back is pressed against the bedroom door. Then, your positions flip in a waltz and he pulls you in with a grappling hold.

Your brother has lost his patience. He tugs at your shirt, and the more you relent, the harder he advances. You fall to the tatami, but his movements go unhindered, ragged and hot, as he plunges into your mouth again and again. Each time, he steals a little more of your breath, but doesn't return it. Nor does he let you find it, until your eyes close and you draw mercy from his lungs instead.

Meanwhile, more of his weight crushes you from above. The floors press harder into your back, until you are trapped, pinned and tangled. You feel his hands roam under your clothes, across your chest, rough, frictional, hardened by years of burns and tears, the mastery of the lightning and the sword. He wants your focus on nothing but him, as your freedom to look, breathe, feel, move are all taken away.

But that is fine. Even when you are half bare, with the bite of his teeth down your neck. Even when there is a pull along your muscles, and panic in your nerves, because your old shinobi instincts anticipate something much worse, telling you this is the same person who came to you with an intent to kill, burned and impaled you with a shuriken.

Everything is fine, because this is Sasuke. That is all you need to know to give in, let him explore and test your body like an unfamiliar instrument, let him search you for whatever answers he wants to find.

His hand travels lower, under the elastic of your pants. Your body is already in anticipation, from his lips, his fingers that seize the side of your waist, his knee that locks firmly against yours. But when you feel the cool of his fingers against your arousal, you are pushed past the line. You stop fighting for air and stop breathing altogether. You feel the smallest stroke of his thumb, and it is enough to fill you with a yearning for him to touch you more, a yearning that courses across your entire body.

You understand this is lust. You understand he has been filling you to the brim with it, made your breathing heavy, your heart pound, your limbs weak, all with no effort. Your brother is no more immune than you, as his force has compensated for his grace, his chest rises and falls.

However, he has not lost himself. His movements slow, and he looks to you in uncertainty, and doubt, and confusion.

There is wrong mixed in the right, and he cannot bring himself to go any further.

:: :: ::


	18. duodêvîgintî

:: :: ::

In the silence are your breath and his.

The unclosed door lets in light from the other room, enough to see each other in the dark, for you to catch the uncertainty in his eyes that matches the hesitation of his hands. Your brother wants you to urge him to continue. To tell him that he is not in the wrong, that he will not regret this.

The longer you look at him, the more you cannot do that. Between you and him is an innocence so thin that it will tear under one more touch, but your body aches enough that you do not care. He can look for guidance. He just cannot from you.

You abandon him.

His grip tightens, shakes. He wants to say something before his thought is interrupted by the lift of a branch. The outside noise forces his attention away, to the window reminding that the world does not belong to two.

When he untangles from you, the air turns colder. He touches the edge of the window, but pauses.

"If it doesn't feel right, Sasuke..." You bundle your shirt on the floor in a half-open fist. "No one is forcing you to continue."

There is a violent rattle. "I never said we're stopping."

His actions contradict his words, and the shouji stops halfway open. He cannot face you.

"You are not locked by decisions. It is fine to be mistaken."

"We are not a mistake." It sounds less than a confirmation, but you push him no more.

You step from behind, enclose him in your arms. Within your touch are pulses from a turbulent heart, skin damp of sweat. Every inhale brings the bitter ashes of a day's labor, the sweet freshness after a thunderstorm. If you bring your lips closer, you would taste a tension that can melt into tenderness given more time.

But you do not. He is life once cradled in your arms. That he could be in your arms again is already more than you could ask for.

When you release him, your heart has calmed, but his has not. He shuts the window, just as you find the light.

The apartment looks smaller, the bare walls and tatami, and two sets of futon whose edges now touch. Both you and your brother carry secrets, some insidious, some not, but the room is honest. To an outsider, there is no suspicion except that the corners box in too close for strangers, though not so for family.

Or lovers.

Your brother is cautious when you separate further. You take out a package from the drawers. "It's late. Why don't you take a shower."

The air turns sharp. "I thought I said we're not stopping."

You beckon him to come closer, and on habit, he takes the first step. But his second and third are wary. "Nii-san-"

You place the package into his hands. "I have nothing against impromptu sex, Sasuke, but I would prefer you don't tease me, then stop halfway. You just came back, and haven't revolved your head around the matter yet. So take some time to think over how far you want to go."

When he unwraps the package, he finds a jar of lubricant, and tries hard not to react. And his expression does not betray him, though you place a hand on his shoulder and smile. Your little brother has not changed, of no experience yet always eager to try.

"That is, if you still want to," you say, then leave him be in privacy.

While he takes your advice, you secure the front door, and other windows. You glance once more at the outside.

The night is serene, with lights from downtown. Families are done for the day, the children sent to bed. They have no incentive to face the winter air, to be outside your apartment.

This is the first time you close a window, and bolt it shut.

From the bathroom, the water is running. The wait is long, though longer for him. He must decide, while you have no remaining contentions. These years, you only wished for home. To fall asleep in safety, and wake up to those you cherish. Anything is fine, as long Sasuke can still call you his brother in the morning.

The door to the bathroom opens.

There is no preamble, when you find water dripping from his hair, down to your shirt.

"Sasuke..." His lips brush against yours as you speak. "Do you want to dry off first?"

"No."

As long as he can call you his brother in the morning, you cannot have any protests.

Sasuke has no patience when he strips you, throws your clothes across the room, out of your reach. His mind is made up, and his fingers tangle into your hair when he takes your lips, mouth and tongue.

He wants you closer, and your thigh slides against him as he pulls you to him. When the pace is too slow, he compensates with force, and you feel his hardness against your lap. Feel your own vulnerability when his knee locks between your legs, leaving no gap between your bodies, and no escape.

You feel him. You taste him. He builds your fervor until you are tighter around him.

He fumbles with the jar in impatience. You take it from him before he can shatter it against the wall, and unscrew the lid. As you dip your fingers into the lubricant, you look once more at him.

Gone is the cold, the numb. He has broken himself from within. His eyes now burn, the breath in his chest heavy. His mind is in the same disarray as his hair, sharp and gleaming in water.

He is deconstructed.

You have no right to think you can reach into him and pull out his pain, put him back together whole. You have no right to put your hand on him, hoping to find him happiness through pleasure.

But pleasure is the only thing left your love can give him, so you press your lips to his cheekbone in an apologetic kiss. It is you who breaks your tie of brotherhood when you touch him. And truth be told, you do not know if this is wrong, or if this will bring both of you regret. You only know this is something he wants, something you are capable of giving.

And you cannot deny him anything.

He pushes you down. Your stomach is warmed by covers, and you rest in the pillows when he enters you. It is not an intimacy you have experienced, and the deeper he pushes inside, the more you relax your hold on the sheets. As he has wanted, you give control of your body to him, left with nothing but the ability to feel whatever he wishes you to feel.

Pain will not be one of them, even when everything becomes open and dripping. His gestures are too kind to bring you hurt, as he laces your hand with his, rests against your bare back.

Against your neck, his lips pull into a smile, one that makes you forget the thundering in your ears, the delicacy of it all. "You are mine, nii-san."

Something fragile inside you breaks.

You are.

:: :: ::


End file.
